


Valter feeds you soup [asmr]

by tsunderstruck (charbroiled)



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes
Genre: Illustrations, Other, cute??????, horror???????, it is what it says on the tin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:14:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22044685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charbroiled/pseuds/tsunderstruck
Summary: You have a fever, so Valter takes care of you. No, like... literally.
Relationships: Valter (Fire Emblem)/Reader
Comments: 16
Kudos: 44





	Valter feeds you soup [asmr]

**Author's Note:**

> My partner refuses to get their own AO3 account. I didn't write this. Enjoy.

You wake up suddenly, in the dark. The last thing you can remember was walking down the halls, before the world started to spin and fade to blackness...

The air is cold but your body is warm, far too warm, with an unnatural weightiness. You try to move, and you realize that you’re swathed in heavy blankets. 

In the dim light, the only shape you can make out is Valter, standing stiffly by the bedside. He is watching you like an owl, scrutinizing its prey. You’ve seen him with that look many times before, before a battle. Before a kill.

How long has he been standing there? You stare back at him, speechless in your disoriented confusion.

“...ah,” he murmurs, “You are awake.”

If he was the one who carried you here, who tucked you in and propped up your head on soft pillows, he makes no mention of it. Instead, he picks up a bowl of soup from the night table. It looks cold, the oils congealing on the thin broth’s surface as if it has stood there as long as he has.

Without stirring, Valter dips a spoon in, and holds out the spoonful to you in offering. He’s managed to scrape a chunk of unknown mush. What is probably, hopefully, vegetable matter. “Here. Drink this.”

You refuse, with the barest shake of your head. But even that movement sends stabbing pain through your head. You scrunch your eyes together; the stars dance for a few seconds.

He pauses, a gleam of recognition in his eyes. “Ah, it pains you.” He sets the bowl back down on the table, and leans in closer. The bed shifts as he presses one knee on the blankets, careful not to graze your body.

He tenderly takes your head in his hands, hands that you’ve seen snap a neck or two. But gently, oh so gently he runs his chill fingertips up your neck, tracing your tense jawline, up and across your forehead.

“Is this… more satisfying to you?”

As he closes the distance between you, a soft lock of his dark blue-green hair falls from place, to gently brush against your cheek. The shift is enough to halt his motion; he brushes the offending strands back, tosses half his waves behind his neck. He hasn’t broken his stare the entire time. 

At this distance, his quickening breath smells of blood and death. You can almost hear his own heart pounding. You weren’t entirely sure he had a heart until this moment. You still aren’t; maybe it’s your own heart pulsing.

His face is so close now, his breath and teeth at your neck. His mouth opens, a low sound escapes him. He jerks back abruptly; the bed creaks in relief as he shifts his weight off it.

“Ah, not now, no… ” he mutters to himself, as he drives his teeth into his own palm. “Not yet…” Anything else he mumbles is unintelligible to you. 

Struck by an idea, he steps back to your side. He reaches across your chest to pull the blankets higher about you. “Water. Yes. You will at least drink that.” At that strange command, he steps backwards out of your sight, into the darkness. His heavy boots against the floor are the only indication of where he’s gone.

\----

When Valter returns, it is with a bottle of water, lukewarm. One hand he uses to slide behind your head. His nails trace the back of your neck as he gently props your head upright.

“I don’t like to see my prey lacking such vitality,” he says, as he lifts the bottle to your lips with his other hand. You don’t swallow right away, and a tiny trickle of water runs down your cheek. He frowns for the first time; what looks like genuine concern marrs his expression. He places the bottle on the table, next to the abandoned soup bowl.

“It pains me to see you like this.” He delicately wipes the dribbled water from your lips with the back of his finger. He leans in again, tilting your head carefully as he examines your eyes. With the same intense scrutiny, runs his thumb along your throat. “ The swelling has subsided,” he remarks, “so… drink. Please.”

This time, at his request, you do allow yourself to drink some water. Not a drop spills. Satisfied, Valter lowers your head back upon the pillows, and tucks the covers up around you once again.

He places a relieving cool hand on your forehead, with just enough pressure to soothe the pounding in your head.

“I thank you,” he whispers. His hand is trembling this time. “The fever seems to be breaking.”

There is another creak in the mattress as he withdraws and settles to sit at the foot of the bed, facing you, back rigidly straight. His eyes are even wider now, the slivered grin has returned to his face. 

“None shall harm you here,” he assures you, as he grips the bedframe so tightly you can hear the scrape of wood. “Not even Death can have you.”

  
“Only me.”  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to doraji! Who provided the comic at the end.


End file.
